Angelo (The Marchesi Family 2)

“There’s nothing wrong with tradition. Delicious baked goods don’t go out of style. Who doesn’t love lobster tails, zeppole, rainbow cookies, cannoli, ricotta pie—”

“I get it, and you’re right, but innovation is important for bringing new customers in. I want to experiment with some twists on the classics and offer a few health-conscious options.”

Angelo hummed. “I’m all for trying new things, but I don’t want any fucking kale in my butter cookies or shit like that.”

“No, that’s disgusting, but what about a cannoli with coconut cream.”

“I’d eat that, and Lucien and Devil would too, but my father would tell you off and my nonna might hex you.”

I sighed. “What about cake sweetened with fruit puree instead of sugar?”

Angelo scrunched up his face. “The whole point of a bakery is to indulge yourself.”

“You think everything should be about indulgence.”

He laughed. “Not everything, just most things. And speaking of indulging myself, I’d be more than happy to taste test anything you want to try out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” It wouldn’t hurt to have someone who’d been a regular customer give the new items a try.

“And if you need someone to help with the remodeling, I know some people.”

No way was I getting involved with any more fucking mobsters. “I don’t want your people involved in this.”

I felt Angelo stiffen behind me. Fuck. I could have just said no thank you.

“I do know people who don’t do crime for a living.”

“But they’re okay with what you do, aren’t they?”

He sat up and glared down at me. “You don’t even know what the fuck we do.”

“Organized crime. Do I need to know more than that?”

“If you think all crime families are like ours, then yeah, you fucking do. Yes, we do illegal shit. Yes, we hurt people when they try to hurt us, but my brother runs his family with more integrity than most of the lawyers you probably worked with.”

I sat up and moved away from him. Why the fuck had I started a fight when his arms around me had felt so good?

Because you’re terrified you don’t actually hate this man.

I didn’t want to think about that, and no matter why I’d started it, I couldn’t back down now. “I get that a lot of people don’t like lawyers. I didn’t like a lot of them either, but I walked away from the assholes and spent three years fighting to make the justice system work for people who otherwise wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Angelo huffed. “Good for you. It’s been thirteen fucking years, and nothing’s changed. You still think you’re better than everybody else. “

“I don’t—”

“Don’t fucking argue with me. Just go to sleep.” He tossed the covers back and stomped out. The only thing he took with him were his pants, so I assumed he wasn’t leaving. I heard him moving around in the kitchen, and a little bit later I heard the hiss and burble of the coffee pot.

I lay there, curled in on myself, muscles tense, waiting to see what would happen next. Why the fuck couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut?

14

Angelo

I was exhausted from a long day and fucking the hell out of Cameron, but I was too angry with him to sleep. So, while Cameron’s coffee maker did its thing, I looked around his kitchen for something to eat. He didn’t disappoint me. There were cupcakes in an antique cake safe that must have been his grandmother’s. I bit into one and discovered the icing was cherry and the cupcake pistachio. It was fucking delicious, creamy icing with a bit of tang from the cherry and a perfectly tender cupcake. It was something his customers would go for.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and reached for another cupcake. I wondered if he had plans for them, but I didn’t fucking care. He was being an ass.

You made him prostitute himself to pay a debt. Did you expect him to be nice?

I really shouldn’t have, should I? I’d told him to be honest. But having him dismiss me, my family, and all our connections hurt just as much now as it had in high school.

I stood by the front window and looked down on the street below. I heard the rustling of the covers as Cameron turned over. Part of me wanted to go in and hold him down, give him another hard, punishing fuck, but the rest of me couldn’t face the judgment in his eyes. Why the fuck hadn’t I just insisted he keep working for our family? That would’ve been the reasonable, mature thing to do. It would’ve shown Lucien I was ready for more responsibility, no matter how much of a fuckup he thought I was at times.

He really had done the same thing with Peter that I was doing with Cameron, even if he didn’t like to see it that way; it was true—mostly. But there was no history between him and Peter. He wasn’t distracted by revenge, but he’d fallen in love. That was more than a little distracting, but it wasn’t going to happen to me.